Blackthorne Academy, Year One

Chapter One

Bechora

The glitter caked to my skin was making me itch as I crept through my sleepy apartment toward my bedroom.

I wanted nothing more than to scrub my body clean and then collapse into bed after working a long shift at Sinful Seduction.

My feet ached from the pink platform stilettos currently dangling from my fingertips, and my shoulders screamed from a night full of pole work.

The fresh-linen scent of my bedroom was a welcome relief from the cigar-smoke-filled strip club, and I was nearly tempted to forgo cleanliness for a few extra moments of comfort in my bed.

Dropping the small duffle bag that held my stage clothes from my shoulder and the stilettos from my hand, I moved toward my small, rickety dresser instead.

Not bothering to turn on my lamp, I pulled open the top drawer, riffling through it in the dark to find a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top.

My movements caused something to slide roughly across the top of the dresser, and my free hand hurried to jerk the chain of the standing lamp beside it.

“What on Earth?” I murmured, catching sight of the thick envelope with my name scrawled across the front in calligraphy.

My brows furrowed, and I freed my other hand from the open drawer, sliding my index finger beneath the sealed flap.

Inside was what appeared to be an invitation printed on thick, black cardstock, the fanciful lettering penned in a bold red.

A crest containing the letters B and T wrapped in thorns adorned the top, and I couldn’t help wondering where it could have come from.

Bechora Knight

We are delighted to extend our warmest congratulations and welcome to Blackthorne Academy for Supernaturals.

Only those identified as holding immense potential are admitted to our prestigious halls.

As you have been identified as a late admission, your elective courses have been preselected for you.

Should you find issue with these selections, you will be able to discuss scheduling changes with your Head of House after orientation.

Additionally, transportation has been arranged on your behalf to ensure you arrive on time. You will receive further details during orientation.

Frowning, I set the strange invitation back on my dresser and grabbed my intended pajamas from the top drawer, before padding barefoot down the hallway to shower.

My mind worked over the card as I scrubbed myself clean, and by the time I was wrapped in a towel, I’d come to the only logical conclusion.

My roommate, Geordie, was the only one who could have left something like that for me, and he’d thrown theme parties in our small apartment before.

Geordie had always been enamored with the fantastical and magical.

It was something that made him a target growing up on the streets, and in some strange way, what drew me to him.

I’d already been on my own for nearly a year when I found him being cornered by some of the other teens from the runaway shelter.

Geordie had been small for our age. At sixteen, he looked no older than twelve, and his obsession with some magic card game made him stick out as one of the weak.

Something about seeing five kids, ranging from fourteen to seventeen, surrounding the terrified boy enraged me.

The result was three of the five in the shelter’s infirmary, and my being banned for assault.

Geordie and I had been together ever since, eventually managing to afford our rundown apartment.

Climbing into bed, I set my phone alarm so that I could be awake when he got home from his first job, before drifting off to sleep with memories of our years together on the street.

The shrill sound of my phone alarm caused me to bolt upright in my bed.

The blackout curtains on my window meant the only light was coming from my cell like a beacon, which I promptly reached over to shut off.

The muffled sounds of Geordie’s footsteps reminded me why I’d set the alarm to begin with, and I tossed my blanket away with a groan.

Rubbing the grit and sleep from my eyes, I followed the sounds to our small kitchen.

Geordie was humming an oddly familiar song to himself as he flitted between the fridge and the stove.

I took a moment to look him over. He seemed slimmer than the last time I’d had a good look at him, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I should worry.

“Hey, B!” Geordie called over his shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d be up before I left.”

He moved to our small coffee pot and clicked it on before moving back to the stove.

“I wanted to talk to you,” I shrugged. “Between my hours at the club and all the doubles you’ve been pulling lately, I haven’t seen you in weeks. I only know you’re alive because I wake up every evening to food, and the coffee pot ready for me to turn on.”

“Someone has to make sure you’re fed and caffeinated, B.” He chuckled, as the scent of bacon started filling the small space. “You’re always taking care of me; this is the least I can do for you.”

“You don’t have to take care of me, Geordie,” I said, momentarily forgetting why I’d gotten up early to speak with him.

Geordie took a deep breath and turned from the stove to face me. “That’s what family does, Bechora. You taught me that.”

“Geordie….”

“Bechora,” he replied flatly, narrowing his eyes at me. Puffing out a breath, I held my hands up in defeat, causing him to smile. “So, what did you get up early to discuss? I know it’s not just because you missed me.”

“Oh,” I replied, moving around him to grab my favorite cup from the cabinet and pour myself coffee. “I saw your party invitation.”

“Party invitation?”

“Yeah, I know you love throwing those theme parties, but I’m not really sure I’m up to hanging out with your friends. I don’t really fit in with that crowd, so I was thinking maybe I’d pick up an extra shift at Sin and let you do your thing.”

“B,” Geordie drawled, pulling the pan of bacon from the burner. “What party invitation?”

I shot him a confused look over the rim of my cup as I took a sip of my coffee. “The Blackthorne Academy thing. You left it on my dresser.”

“I’m not having a party, B,” Geordie replied, cocking his head slightly to the side.

“Are you serious right now? Why would you leave an invitation on my dresser and then lie to me about the party when I say I don’t want to come?” I demanded. Whatever Geordie was up to, I hadn’t had enough sleep for it.

Geordie raised his hands in front of him. “I swear, B, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not planning any parties. I’m pulling doubles for at least the next month so I can get tickets to a con.”

Slamming my half-drunk coffee cup on the worn counter, I stomped through the apartment to my bedroom to grab the invitation.

After a beat, I heard Geordie’s footsteps following after me.

Tearing into my bedroom, I made a beeline for the dresser to grab the invitation and wave it in his face. Except… it wasn’t there.

“Where did it go?” I shouted, pulling open the top drawer and shuffling clothes around before dipping down to check the floor around and behind the dresser.

“Where did what go?” Geordie asked.

“The damned invitation! It was sitting right there,” I pointed angrily at the dresser top, “when I got home this morning.”

“B,” Geordie started slowly. “Are you sure you didn’t imagine it? It wouldn’t be the first time you thought you saw something after a long night. Remember about a year before we found this place and were sleeping in the park? You swore you saw a man having a conversation with a wolf.”

“It was here, Geordie!” I huffed, plopping onto my unmade bed. “I wasn’t that tired when I got in last night, and I’m not crazy.”

Geordie moved to sit beside me on the bed and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I didn’t say you were crazy. Obviously, there’s no invitation here, so maybe it was just a really vivid dream, B. I know I’ve had some pretty out there ones that took me days to realize were just dreams.”

Taking a deep breath, I blew it out slowly. “Yeah, okay. It could have been a dream.” I conceded.

“Look, why don’t you go back to sleep. You don’t have to be up for the club for a couple more hours, and I doubt you’re resting if your dreams are that vivid. I’ll have the coffee pot set up for you and a BLT in the fridge when you get up.”

“Yeah,” I replied, yawning suddenly. “That’s probably a good idea. I’m sorry I snapped at you, Geordie.”

“It’s okay, B.” Geordie chuckled, standing up from my bed before tucking my blanket against my chin once I’d gotten comfortable. “Get some rest. I need to hurry up before I end up late to work.”

I mumbled a response, sleep already sinking its claws into me and working to drag me under. Geordie’s footsteps retreated to the door, and I could have sworn I heard him mutter an apology before my door clicked shut behind him.

The strange invitation and murmured apology were both long forgotten by the time I pulled into the gravel employee parking lot at Sinful Seduction for my shift that night.

The club was packed, the front parking lot overflowing into the street.

Waving at the security guard posted on the back door, I slipped inside and hurried to the dressing rooms to change.

The thumping bass vibrated through the souls of my worn-out sneakers and sent a trill of anticipation through my body.

“Hey, B!” One of the other girls called out, as she adjusted the barely-there strip of material that acted as a skirt.

“Hey, Nat.” I answered, “Good crowd tonight?”

“Oh, yeah. Owen said they’re turning people away at the door tonight.” She grinned. “Loads of big spenders tonight, too. It’s like there’s something in the air.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic!” I cheered back, moving to my cubby and working to change quickly.

I’d been working at the club since I was eighteen.

Without an education or G.E.D., there weren’t many options for a barely legal, homeless kid.

Four years in and several clubs later, I’d long since learned that there weren’t any places I could pull in the type of money I did at Sinful Seduction.

It didn’t hurt that Sin had strict rules about touching the girls.

Any would-be creep trying to cop a feel would be bounced before he knew what happened.

Owen, the bouncer who usually manned the main club, seemed to have a second sense when it came to keeping us safe.

When I was finally changed, I made my way to the main club and couldn’t help the smile that split my face.

Nat was right. The club was packed. I let myself get lost in the music, working the crowd and picking up tips in between my turns on stage.

As the night wound down, I had made nearly enough money to surprise Geordie with the con tickets he was working so hard for.

The thought was enough to convince me to take one last private dance just before closing.

The club was all but deserted when I led my patron back to the main club to cash out his tab. Owen hovered nearby as I made my way behind the bar to close the man out, following a few steps behind once he was done to see him out.

“I’ll be back in a sec, if you need someone to walk you out!” Owen called over his shoulder.

“I’m good, thanks!” I replied with a wave.

There were still a few members of the bar staff cleaning and preparing the club for the next night’s opening when I was finally changed into a baggy T-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants.

Securing the large wad of cash into the inside pocket of my duffle bag, I called my goodbyes into the main club and made my way to the back exit.

The streetlights flickered with the first hints of daylight, and my eyes scanned over the nearly empty lot.

A shiver ran up my spine, and I stiffened when my eyes landed on the large man leaning against my rusted-out Corolla.

His muscular arms were crossed in front of his chest, causing his biceps to bulge and his light gray t-shirt to strain against his chest. My mind screamed for me to turn around and head back inside, where it was safe.

For me to grab Owen and have him scare the stranger off, but my body had another idea.

Gravel crunched under my shoes, causing the man to straighten to his full height.

My hand instinctively reached for the pepper spray in my duffle bag as his arms dropped loosely to his sides and his eyes raked over me from head to toe.

The man was at least six-and-a-half-feet tall, my head tilting farther back to keep his face in view the closer I got to him.

I couldn’t make out his features, obscured as they were by a puff of steam he’d blown through his nose, so thick it could be mistaken for smoke.

My mind finally seemed to catch up with my body, and I stopped just out of arm’s reach. Craning my neck back, I could just make out the amber color of his eyes and the way his nostrils flared as he leaned toward me.

“Bechora Knight,” He spoke, his gravelly voice sending a pulse of need straight to my core. “I’ve come to escort you to Blackthorne Academy.”

I blinked at him slowly, his words taking a moment to register. “I—”

“We must be going, Ms. Knight.” He spoke, cutting off my confused protests and reaching for my arm.

The moment his rough palm touched my bare skin, a jolt of lightning shot through me.

A needy whimper tore from my throat, and the man frowned, his hold relaxing for just a second before tightening painfully.

My mouth gaped open in shock, my eyes flitting between where he held me and the molten amber of his eyes as my tired mind tried to figure out what just happened.

A low growl seemed to vibrate from his chest as he waved his free hand, and a large, black hole opened behind him just before he pulled me through.